Bloody typical England - swelteringly hot yesterday, rainy today. Damn it!
What made it worse, though, was that for some reason, for the first time in years, the weather made me all damned wheezy. Skillz - I literally DID turn into Darth Vader. Minus the cool suit, robot hand, light sabre, and any inkling of the Force.
It got progressively worse throughout the day, not helped by the fact that I'd forgotten to take a Piriton in the morning. So, come late afternoon I wandered down to Hammersmith to buy some damn Piritons. How difficult would that be?
Not very, you'd think.
You'd be wrong.
First of all - since when did they become over-the-counter? Secondly, if you were the old bloke in front of me who wanted to run through his entire receipt with the cashier - just you wait till you desperately need some drugs, mister; I'll be watching and waiting, bitch. Watching. And. Waiting...
Anyway, when the old fart buggered off, I just about had enough breath to wheeze out "... Pi..ri...ton..."
I was like the disabled wheezy kid in Malcolm in the Middle.
"Do you want the Boots' own brand, dear? They're basically the sa–"
"Piriton!" I gasped, hand outstretched.
"Now, you do know that these may make you a little drowsy don't y–"
"GIMME THE £@*!ING PIRITON!"
She handed them over in a flash, and even as she offered me my change, I'd torn the box open and was actually crunching them between my teeth.
Of course, the situation improved a while later when Yaz offered me the use of her becanase (or whatever it was) inhaler; I haven't used one of those in ages.
That's some quality shit my friends.
Set me right up for seeing Avenue Q at the theatre (of which they'll be more tomorrow!).
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3 comments:
He hee! Boots. When I visited the UK last year, I couldn't get over three things.
1)Your chemists are called "Boots". Think about it. It really *is* funny.
2)There literally IS a chippy on every corner.
3) There is a station in London called Cockfosters.
I was such a typical stupid tourist.
In addition to Boots, we also have Superdrug! It's nowhere near as good as Boots though; Boots rocks!
And the best tube station name is Finsbury Park; read backwards, it says Krapy rubsnif! Always makes me laugh, but then I am a little simple...
Reminds me of the old joke often told in English pubs during the summer:
What's the best way to Cockfosters?
Drink it warm!
;-)
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